Quetzalcoatl

This morning I discovered something called the Burning Man Festival. It happens every year at the end of summer in the middle of the desert and it seems to be the ultimate act of freedom. It’s where people can be free to experience their own art for no real egotistical purposes - just a momentary burst of magic. I get it. I want to be part of it but it’s so far away from my own form of existence. It’s like it would take a huge leap to form that movement into that world. The dust. I’m not sure I could handle it. The wind. The heat.  But then the music. The people. The memories. That would override the sense of survival for me. It’s like you have to work hard to experience the ethereal. It doesn’t come to you. You have to work hard for your own sense of freedom. I would have to try really hard. And trying that hard is always not what I need. Or do you just let go of everything around you? Can you just let everything go and be?  Our world of control and confetti means that it’s hard to fi